


Believe or Die

by Phanismyreligion



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Ghosts, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phanismyreligion/pseuds/Phanismyreligion
Summary: Dan and Phil have been living in their new apartment for a few months now, everything seem to be going great aside from the occasional electronic glitches, loss of power, WiFi shortages, and fast draining batteries. Things are just getting creepier for the boys. After a door slams by itself, Phil is totally convinced it's a ghost but Dan remains skeptical because he doesn't believe in the supernatural.... Right?





	1. Chapter 1

“Hello Internet! Now today i’d like to talk abou-”

click

ffffffffsssshhhhhhhhh…...

I groaned loudly and leaned backwards in my chair.

The camera had stopped working again.

The static coming from my laptop next to it taunted me with its hissing and the camera pointing down at me mocked me with its glaring lenses.

This was the second time this had happened so I just turned the devices off and left the room exasperated. Phil was out at the moment picking up a new charger and battery for his phone because the battery never seemed to charge. I flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. I was met with the same jeering static. The sound was almost laughing at me as I tossed the remote in frustration. I got up and poured myself a bowl of cereal, surprisingly full. I guess Phil hasn’t gotten to this one yet. Eating the cereal, I thought about our little electronic problem. Sometimes the WiFi would go out, sometimes our batteries would drain for no reason, sometimes we would be met with static when we turned on our devices, and every once in a while, our power would completely shut off. To top that all off, the power only goes off in our apartment. Not the whole building, not even our whole floor, just our apartment. We've gone as far as actually calling someone to look at our electric problem because it was so bad, naturally, nothing was found wrong and we were made fools of. Poor Phil had to take time to recover from that one.

So we've just formed our lives to work around this little problem. The man that had come had made fun of us and told us “maybe your flat is haunted” in the most ridiculous voice as he laughed. Since then, whenever Phil is left alone at the flat and I come home, he swears he had heard things move. I told him that it was just his imagination because there was no way this flat was haunted. If anything, he was just hearing the neighbors move around or make noise like they sometimes do. I glanced at the time, the clock read 8:37 pm. Phil had been gone almost an hour and should be walking in in three… two….

Creak

One.

“Dan! I’m back!”

I took a bite of my cereal, smirking in satisfaction.

“Oh really? I didn’t notice.”

He walked into the kitchen

“Haha, very funny. Did you get your video done already?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Why?”

“Guess.”

“Drained battery or static?”

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner!”

“We really need to do something about this sometime”

I sighed in agreement.

“Did you bring food?”

He held out a plastic sack of Chinese takeout

“You read my mind” I said with a smirk

“Read your mind, read the text you sent me begging for Chinese take out, same thing.” he laughed.

We got the TV to work and watched different shows while we ate. About 11:35 we said goodnight and went to bed.

I got settled in with my laptop and scrolled through Tumblr for a few hours. I heard a click as Phil turned his lights off he must have been reading his Stephen King book. I scanned the website for a little longer till about 2:59 am when the screen went static. I sighed in annoyance and closed the laptop. No less than a minute later did I hear a door slam shut and wood splinter. It wasn’t even just slamming shut, there was fierce anger behind the bang. I was positive it was coming from Phil’s room. I flipped the covers over and got out of bed. What could of made phil so angry? That slam probably woke up everyone in London! I quickly walked down into the hall and up to Phil’s door only to be met by Phil himself exiting his room looking a lot different than I expected. Instead of red faced and steaming with fury, I came face to face with a sleepy, scared, and confused looking Phil. He was shirtless and his hair was disheveled in the most ridiculous way. If it were another time, I would have probably laughed. For some reason though, my breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak or move for a moment. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but i could only stare. Phil broke the silence.

“Dan? What’s the matter? Why did you slam your door?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing!”

“Dan, I didn’t slam my door.”

“Who else could it have been?”

“I was thinking it was you!”

“Why would I slam my door?!”

“Why would I slam MY door?”

We both fell silent.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“What if it really was a-”

“Phil. There is no way in hell our flat is haunted. Now that i’m thinking about it, it was probably that noisey couple across the hall. They probably had a fight or something.”

“But Dan-”

“Oh come on Phil! I really didn’t think you were dumb enough to believe that man! He was rude and was making fun of us and it’s stupid to even consider it! Just forget anything he said and go back to sleep!!”

Phil’s eyes widened at my outburst. I realized that I was shouting at him and bit my lip in shame.

Phil’s typically bright blue eyes hardened. “Alright goodnight.”

He shut his door before I could do or say anything else.

“Phil I-”

I leaned my head against the wall. What the hell was that.

I let my whole body sag with guilt. What have I just done? Where did that come from. That’s definitely a first for me. I needed to apologize to him in the morning.

As I walked down the hall and back to my room. Voices in my head cursed me and beat me for my unnecessary actions. So much so that I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings and didn’t notice that every single door that I passed had a cracked and splintered frame around the door knob.


	2. Chapter 2

I lay on my bed the next morning. It was 8:00. That means I got…. Absolutely no sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how terrible I was to Phil. I have no idea where all that built up anger came from. I desperately needed to apologize to him, and fast. But what if he doesn’t forgive you?

“No, Phil isn’t the kind of person to hold a grudge. He will forgive me.”

Are you sure? You called him loads of horrible things last night. You insulted him because you just don’t want to believe the same things he does.

“No! Shut up! He will forgive me! He has to!”

He doesn’t have to do anything. He hates you. What have you done you idiot.

“He does not, I will prove it ri-”

Shuffling noises in the hall made every hair on my neck stand up, my eyes widened and I covered my mouth. I have no idea how much of that had been said out loud and how much of it Phil may have heard. I spun around, facing the door. It was cracked open. My stomach dropped. Phil must have seen me talking to myself, even worse, I was talking about him. I hopped out of bed and quietly shuffled my way to the door. I peaked out into the hallway and saw no one. Gulping with nerves, I trudged into the hallway and into the living space and saw… no one? There was no way Phil had had enough time to get much farther than here that quietly. I looked in the kitchen and again, nobody was there. I then made my way to Phils room to see the door shut. I could hear soft breathing through the door. Was he… sleeping? No. He was probably just pretending. Probably trying to throw me off into thinking that he wasn't listening. I decided to let him sleep. I’d apologize when he woke up. I poured some cereal into my bowl. I was expecting it to be a lot lighter than yesterday, giving me proof that Phil was hungry last night. To my surprise, it felt completely untouched. Other than what I had poured yesterday, it was totally full. I wasn’t sure what to think. Should I be happy? I mean, I have been telling him not to touch my food for years now, but what is with the sudden change? Was there a deeper meaning behind the untouched cereal that- No! Stop it Dan! It doesn’t mean anything. He was probably simply not hungry. That is all.

You're making a lot of assumptions today Daniel. Face the facts. Phil’s pissed at you.

No. If Phil was pissed at me, he would have eaten ALL of my cereal! This might even be an act of forgiveness!

Suddenly feeling a lot better, I began to dig into my food.

 

About an hour later, I heard Phil enter the kitchen from my room. Now was my time to apologize. I walked up to the entrance, right outside where he couldn’t see me and was stopped in my tracks.

I can do this…. Right? I just need to apologize. I said some things I didn’t mean and now all I have to do is fix it! Yeah! This shouldn’t be too hard…. Right?

After a few shaky breaths. I entered the kitchen, half ready to face his fury, however it may come. I was met by Phil bustling around the kitchen, not missing him grab his completely untouched breakfast and toss it in the garbage. He had a sense of urgency about him as he moved. I was unsure of what to think or do. Surely he must be mad at me? Surely he’s going to yell at me? Hit me? It doesn’t matter because I deserve it. It doesn’t matter that Phil believes in all this baloney, he is still my best friend and he didn’t deserve to be screamed at.

“Ph-Phil?” I muster out, almost fearfully.

He ignores me

“Phil?” I try again more bravely

“Yes?” he answers, back turned to me.

“Um… can I talk to you?”

“Not right now, I need to clean the kitchen”

“Phil, you don’t even like to clean. Please let me talk to you?’

“Just leave me alone for now.”

“But Phil.”

“Dan, i’m busy, not right now”

‘“Phil, please-”

“Dan.”

Something about the way this conversation was going felt terrifyingly familiar and wrong at the same time, but I didn’t know why. Phil and I have fought plenty of times before, but it was never like this. We would say stuff, I would start screaming and yelling and he would say more stuff and I would say more stuff then he would start crying then I would start crying and then hugs and then pizza. That was how it’s pretty much always been. But this reminded me of a husband and wife on an old sitcom or movie. It was almost like it wasn’t me talking at all. Phil kind of sounded different too. Suddenly, a rage unlike any other flowed through me. I had this sudden urge that I was way too confused to override. I stormed up to Phil and grabbed him roughly by the wrist and turned him around. A glass crashed to the floor. I didn't even see that Phil had not touched it because I wasn’t too sure what was going on.

“Dammit Phil, just listen! I just wanted to apologize! I was just acting so stupid last night and I felt terrible! I couldn’t sleep! I hate what I did! Just forgive me!!”

Then suddenly I could see clearly again.

And oh god.

I was not prepared.

I was leaning in really close to Phil’s face. I could feel the fear and dead confusion radiating of off him like heat off a fire. The terror and uncertainty in his is wide blue eyes just about shattered my heart. At first, I wondered if my screaming had been that mortifying, when I could suddenly feel what I was holding.

My dominant hand was iron fisted, I was holding… no. twisting Phil’s right wrist in a very painful and odd position. I could feel him shake, I noticed that I was pressed against him. His left arm, the one I wasn’t mangling, was pinned between himself and the counter that I was holding him against.

But the worst part, the part that i’d never remember the events that lead up to me possessing this object, was that in my right hand, was an object that I was holding in an almost threatening way. The object was ready to be used, prepared. My right arm felt oddly tense and more in control than i’ve ever felt my typically non-dominant hand to be. 

I was on the verge of stabbing Phil with a kitchen knife.


	3. Chapter 3

I dropped the knife, let go of Phil’s wrist and backed up all in one swift motion.

I had no idea what had just happened. I glanced at the knife and then back up at Phil, he seemed equally confused and scared as me. We stared at each other completely frozen in shock. Phil was holding his wrist in his hand and both of my arms were folded in on each-other, as if afraid of what the other might do next. We stayed that way for what felt like forever, an unspoken question hung in the air like a dense fog.

What the hell just happened?

Phil slowly removed his wrist from his hand to view the damage that I had done.

As he did so, I could hear words screaming at me, I didn’t know where they were coming from. Questions assaulted me from every angle because the colors and marks I had left on him were impossible. Massive bruises had already begun to form, displaying brute strength that I didn’t know I had. The markings were larger than I would have imagined them to be as well. My hands were big, but there was no way they made those giant welts. His hand hung limp and another question, one that was screaming louder than the rest entered my mind.

Did I do that?

Phil looked back up at me with fear in his eyes. I could see we were on the same page, but I didn’t know what to do. Questions and the screaming in my mind grew louder and louder.

You did this No.. What is happening?

You did this

You did this I never get this angry at anything

You did this

You hurt him

You hurt her This isn’t me… Where is this coming from?

You hurt her

You hurt her I don’t understand.

How could you?

How could you I would never hurt Phil! Why did this happen?

How could you

How could you

He is your best friend. What is wrong with you! Where are all these voices coming from?

she was your WIFE! What is wrong with you! What is going on?

she was your GIRLFRIEND! What is wrong with you!

she was your SISTER! What is wrong with you!

You’re a monster This can’t be real

You're a monster.

You're a monster. Help. Where are they coming from?

You're a monster.

You deserve to die I can’t stay. These voices must be right.

You deserve to die too Phil probably hates me.

You deserve to die too I need to get out

You deserve to die too I need to run

 

I need to die

 

I glanced down at the knife. The same urge that had taken over me earlier was threatening to over take me again. I felt myself slowly reach down for it, the voices were screaming at me.

END IT

END IT

END IT

…..why are you ending it? You deserve worse.

 

I picked it up and looked at it for a moment, unsure of what I was doing or what was really happening. Just that something needed to be done.

I aimed the knife at my chest.

 

 

 

But something stopped me.

Something in me was screaming no.

And then suddenly, I felt a warm hand grabbing my arm.

This is unfamiliar

Yet so familiar.

I looked up at the person that had just stopped me from doing what was right.

Phil was shaking badly, but his grip was firm.

“Dan, stop. You’re not in control.”

I dropped the knife with a gasp. My senses rushing back to me, fresh air entered my lungs like water pouring from a broken dam.

I had almost…

I had just…

What is happening to me.

I glanced at my hands, shaking madly. The strange voices were gone. The weight of what I had done and then almost done settled in quickly.

I needed to get out.

Phil had been saying words while I had been having a little breakdown. He was trying to comfort me. Why?

“....ok Dan, it’s going to be ok. I know it wasn’t your fault…”

He was trying to calm me down. My heavy breaths shook my ribs and I could feel tears rolling down my face. I needed to leave. I needed to think about this.

“I-I’ve got to.. I’ve got to..”

“Dan?” Phil looked at me confused.

“I-I need to.. make a...leave.”

I pushed Phil aside and sprinted towards the door. I barely heard Phil call out to me from the kitchen as I slammed the door behind me, not seeing the splinters that I made in the doorframe. I chose the stairs because they were closer and blindly made my way out and into the cold air. I kept going. Walking who knows where for who knows how long. Slowly letting the frigid-air numb my senses. I took a deep breath and slowed my pace. I looked around. I was in a park surrounded by trees. I sat down on a nearby bench and leaned my head back. I let the whole situation replay in my head. I almost stabbed Phil, I almost stabbed myself. In what universe does this make sense? I don’t understand what took over me and I can’t comprehend what happened.

Well, maybe Phil is right. Maybe it is-

No, I don’t know why, but I still don’t believe it. I knew what was happening, it was me that did those things. I just can’t understand why.

You are such a terrible person

I didn’t deny the thought. It was true. I was a terrible person. I wouldn’t be surprised if Phil was calling the police right now. I shivered. I was freezing outside. I looked at my bare arms. All I was wearing was a thin, black t-shirt and jeans with holes in them. Perfect December outfit Dan, what a genius idea.

I sighed, watching my breath form a cloud around my head. I couldn’t go back. Not right now. I felt my pockets for something, anything.

Nothing.

I left and didn’t even grab my cell phone.

Grade A work today Dan. You almost killed your best friend, you almost killed yourself, you ran outside in freezing weather in summer clothes and you left anything you could need to survive normally at home.

I didn’t know what to do. I was basically lost, I had no money or way to contact anyone and I was cold. So I did the only thing I could do. I kept walking. I walked in the way I had come and just kept going. I didn’t really have a goal in mind, I just kept walking. It had maybe been about 2 hours since I left the flat at this point and I was completely frozen. I knew I deserved it, that is probably why I avoided any stores or shops that would have provided me with warmth.

It was about 1:30 in the afternoon at this point when I saw a car drive up to me with a familiar face in the driver's seat.

“Dan! There you are!” Louise shouted at me from her seat.

“Get in! Get in! You must be freezing! We’ve been searching all over London for you! Don’t you have your phone? Where is your coat! Get in this car right now!”

All I could do was obey. I was cold and wasn’t thinking straight. I opened the door and climbed in the passenger's seat where a blanket and a coat were already waiting me.

She pulled out her phone and called someone.

“Yeah I found him. Don’t worry, he’s alive. Yeah, i’ll meet you there.” She hung up and turned to me.

“Honestly Dan, what were you thinking running off like that! I know you're a grown man, but I thought grown men had the sense to take a coat out with them in 0 degree weather!”

I let Louise ramble on a bit more as she drove me somewhere, I don’t know where, probably home.

I looked over at Louise, who was still going on about how dumb I was acting.

“Louise?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry about all of this. It’s all my fault.”  
She smiled a bit.

“Don’t worry about it. If you don’t mind though, what exactly happened anyway?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I needed to know how much she knew.

“What did Phil tell you?”

“Not much. Just that something happened and that you ran out the door and for some reason, needed to be found as fast as possible. He did mention that you had gone out in practically nothing and didn’t have your phone on you.”

I let out a quiet sigh. He hadn't snitched on me? He still wanted to protect me for some reason. I couldn’t tell Louise what I had done. Not now. I had to think of something quick.

“O-oh, it was pretty stupid really. Phil and I got into this big fight and I just got so angry that I didn’t really know what I was doing....”

Ok, not to bad. Not a total lie, really.

Louise shook her head.

“Well hopefully you two can figure it out. You're best friends after all. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

She pulled up to the front door.

“Now i’ve got to go. I’ll see you around!”

I got out and waved goodbye to Louise. Gulping, I then turned around and walked inside.

I made it up to my apartment and turned the knob. It didn’t budge. I went to grab my keys, when I remembered that they weren’t there. I was about to leave and wait for Phil to come back when the door opened. I blinked in surprise and entered the flat. I saw Phil pacing the floor with his phone by his ear, then he saw me. He dropped the phone and raced towards me, embracing me in a hug.

“Dan! I was so worried about you! After all that happened…. I was afraid I was going to lose you!”

I didn’t react at all. I just stood there motionless and surprised. Why was he hugging me? Why did he miss me? Why wasn’t he yelling at me? I couldn’t help but notice his hand hanging limply off his wrist. Did I... break it?

He let go of me and looked at me with happiness and relief.

“Dan, I was thinking about what happened and I realized that we must have been possessed or something. I felt like I couldn’t do anything when in reality that would have not been the case-”

Was he still going on about this? After everything that happened, he couldn’t really still believe these childish thoughts. Maybe he was trying to come up with an excuse? Like a way to cope with what had happened? He did almost just die after all. Maybe it was like a PTSD thing.

“Phil, that’s impossible. That didn’t happen. Thank you for trying to make up an excuse for my actions but we both know that wasn’t the case.”

Phil looked taken aback and hurt.

“Dan, what are you talking about? We both know you would have never have tried to do that.”

“Well I did, didn’t I? We were both there Phil! I tried to… well, you know!”

I couldn't say it because it would make it real.

I could see Phil searching for something to come back with.

“Well, explain this Bill Nye. What was going on with your eyes?”

“My what?”

He smirked triumpically.

“Your eyes. They turned a weird red color.”

Now he’s just seeing things. Look what you've done you monster. You've probably broken his wrist and you scared him into having PTSD or something. What is the matter with you?!

“Phil, now you're seeing things! I’m sorry. I don’t know what got control of me but I now you're just trying to blame something imaginary for what is real! This isn’t a story Phil! These things just don’t happen! I know you're reading Stephen King right now but none of that is real! Maybe put down the book for a while because you're talking nonsense.”

Phil looked angry and confused. His jaw was locked in a scowl, but I wasn’t going to stand there and just listen to Phil’s ridiculous justifications for my stupid actions. I shoved past him and headed straight for my room. I ignored the yelp of pain he made when I had bumped his wrist, slamming the door shut behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been weeks since the incident. Though nothing nearly as insane had happened since then, something worse, something more sinister and almost undetectable had been going on in the flat.

Dan no longer notices his friend.

Phil no longer bothers to speak much to Dan.

Phil began to skip meals and pace the floor in the middle of the night.

At first, whenever Dan questioned it, Phil would swear that he wasn’t the one doing it, but quickly stopped trying to convince Dan after getting shouted at for implying an invisible figure was creating the racket.

It was indeed Phil making the noise, but he was unaware that his body was getting up every night and pacing the halls.

 

Dan just slowly sank into state of unawareness.

He wasn’t bumping into things or dropping anything more than usual, he just seemed dull. His eyes were generally vacant and almost glassy, no longer filling with light when Phil entered the room.

Not like Phil actively did that anymore anyway.

Phil would dodge him whenever he could, harboring and unarticulated, unwelcome, fear of his best friend.

 

Dan was a zombie.

Phil was like a frightened mouse.

A dark, foreboding feeling seemed to always fill the air while an unspoken spite just made it denser.

 

The house was no longer really a home to the boys.

 

They stopped doing many things, like responding to questioning and worried fans, liveshows had been forgotten, videos weren’t even fathomable, basic self care was off the table and conversation ceased to exist.

 

Phil continued to answer his phone, but only briefly because he was afraid that he would give a voice to the fears he was not allowed to express.

He didn’t want to lose anyone else the way he was losing Dan.

He blamed himself constantly, his mind coming to the absurd conclusion that because he believed a supernatural being was haunting them, Dan was suffering.

He believed he was the reason Dan was acting the way he was.

He was why Dan would randomly lose control.

 

Phil had to train himself to stop jumping at the slamming doors when Dan was sitting in the room with him.

 

He had to bite down the scream he was holding when he thought he saw figures move behind him in the mirror when Dan was in the house.

 

He had to suck in that gasp when a book or a knife fell off the counter when Dan was close by.

 

He had to pretend to ignore his gut instincts because Dan was more of an explosive than a human.

 

One budge at a strange sound and Dan would go off. Either screaming at him, yelling at nothing, at his worst he would throw things at Phil.

 

He was not to be messed with.

 

Dan never really did anything anymore. All motivation was gone. The littlest things set him off on uncontrollable rages. He couldn’t think or see clearly anymore, and sometimes, he felt like something else was controlling his body entirely. To him, it was all in his head and he was certain of it.

Coming up with excuses like that he was sick or tired.

Constantly telling Phil that was all it was.

He believed himself too. He was absolutely 100% sure that he was completely right.

 

But then again, he didn’t see what harm Phil was doing to himself behind closed doors.

 

He didn’t see the fatigue Phil couldn’t hide.

 

He didn’t see Phil hold his breath and the fear in his eyes when something unnatural happened.

 

He didn’t see the signs that things around him were getting worse.

 

He didn’t see that his stubbornness was killing them both.

 

Until finally, Phil saw something that he and Dan would never forget.


	5. Chapter 5

I glance at the clock,

2:30 am.

I try and remember the last time I had gone to sleep, I can’t.

These last several weeks have been hazy. I never felt like I was actually there, slipping in and out of a dreamlike state. I haven’t talked to anyone or done much of anything, the worried and confused people on social media are invisible to my glazed brown eyes. Nothing is really worth focusing on. I skim through my friends videos, only able to focus on a few minutes at a time. The names of my friends and fellow YouTubers are barely recognizable in my head as I watch them smile with various welcomes to each video.

Louise, Pj, Chris, Tanya, Cat, Tom, Hazel, Anthony, Tyler, Mark, Dodie, Oli, Sean, Felix, Colleen, Thomas, Joe, Casper, Conner, Zoe, Jenna…

All reduced to a blur of names and faces in my deteriorating mind.

 

I continue to skip around YouTube and various other sites for several more minutes.

2:57

 

2:58

 

2:59

 

3:00

A terrified screech shatters the silence.

I haven’t heard anything louder than a squeak come out of my almost forgotten flatmate in weeks. Much less an ear shattering scream.

I feel like electricity had just shocked my to the core as a tilde wave of emotions hit me like a truck.

Confusion

Shock

Anger

Concern

I jump out of bed and race towards Phil’s room. I push open the door to see him standing up on his bed in a defensive position with his back pressing up against the wall. He is staring wide eyed at the opposite wall and shaking. All he is wearing is his emoji pajama bottoms that I hate.

I just kind of stand there, not really sure what to say or do, so I stare at his motionless form for a second. Not that that lasts long. His head snaps towards me quickly. In the rush of whatever just happened, he seems to totally forget that we hadn’t really spoken or even seen eachother in weeks.

“D-Dan! I saw it! I-I mean them?! But there was a thing! A-and people! A lot of people! But-but this thing was there! It was over my bed and it was some kind of ghost monster thing! I don’t even know! But the-the people had like chains or something and I-I can’t even describe it!”

He is in tears at this point. He kneels back down onto the bed and covers his face. His muffled voice barely audible through his sobs.

“Dan, I don’t know what’s been wrong with you and I don’t even know if you care anymore but it was there and I don't’ know what to do. I don’t even know if you are actually there or if i’m talking to a ghost of who you were. But I need you Dan, the real one. Not this thing you've been. Please, come back.”

 

I kept staring at Phil blankly. Somewhere, deep inside, I can feel something. Something that desperately wants out. It wants me to walk over to Phil and… i’m not sure. I haven’t really felt anything for a while. It wants out more than anything. I consider letting it free. Letting it take over. But something stops me. This other thing doesn’t want me to let it out. I struggle with myself a little longer while I stand perfectly still, staring at Phil who is still curled in a ball crying.

So I compromise.

Letting my shoulders sag, I say

“I’ll call the landlord in the morning, see if anybody actually died here or something. This isn't because I believe it’s true, it’s to prove to you that it’s not.”

Phil raises his head and looks at me. Desperation and disbelief clouds his eyes. I don’t notice it. I turn around and leave his room. A quiet “Thank you” follows me back to my room.


	6. Chapter 6

I open my eyes, I can’t remember falling asleep. A gloomy streak of sunlight illuminates the room. I sigh and sit up, glancing at the clock.

12:37

So a little past noon. Could have been worse. I get up to start my routine of floating around doing nothing when I recall what had happened barely a few hours ago.

Damn it.

I have no desire to talk to anyone. Much less find out who might have died here a billion years ago. It’s London. Everything is old. I’d be more shocked if nobody had taken a bullet or something here.

But for some reason, I see my body begin to head towards my phone without my consent. I don’t question it anymore. It just happens. I pick it up and head to the living room, dialing the landlord's number. Phil is sitting on the couch eating breakfast, or lunch, i’m not sure. I pretend not to notice him tense up at my entrance. I also pretend not to notice the grateful look on his face when he realizes what i’m doing. A man with a deep voice picks up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Uh, Hi. It’s me, Daniel Howell”

Phil looks up quickly from his food, giving me a look of shock and confusion.

“Ah! Hello Dan! You’ve never introduced yourself that way before to me, but it’s good to know your ok with your full name.”

A little bit of confusion sparks in the back of my mind

He’s right, I never introduce myself that way. I don’t even really like to say my full name.

I quickly dismiss the thought.

“Erm, yeah, has anyone died here?”

Silence on the other end.

Phil, who had been listening to me, jumps off the couch and rips the phone from my hand.

“Ha ha, sorry about that, what Dan meant to say was that we have been very curious about the history of the apartment! Things like, how old is it, who has lived here, and like Dan said, has anyone died here?”

I stood there just staring at my roommate, I didn't really react to having the phone rudely taken away. I watch as Phil finishes the conversation and hangs up, shoving the phone back into my hands and giving me an exasperated look.

“He’s coming over in 2 hours. Try and make yourself look…”

He looks me up and down, I think I catch his eyes lingering on my bare chest and possibly turning a little red. I can’t help but wonder if my own face is heating up too.

“...alive.”

I turn away and head to my room.

 

Looking in the mirror, I can kind of see what Phil was talking about. I have a few fleeting thoughts about how I look. My hair is completely out of whack, my P.J pants are wrinkled and dirty from days of use. They probably stink too. The bags under my eyes are clearly visible. I look skinnier too, when did I last have a meal? I can’t remember, but I can’t make myself care.

Personally, I don't think there is anything wrong with the way I look because I have completely stopped caring. Nevertheless, I obey whatever Phil said and walk to the bathroom to start the shower, I go back for my clothes and in a moment of total delirium (More than the usual) I begin to get undressed.

I can hear footsteps coming closer, but don’t really think about my open door until a little late.

“Hey Dan, do you have….”

I turn around in response to the voice, not really thinking about being naked.

Phil’s eyes widen dramatically and he turns a shade of red that I didn’t know existed. He yelped and turned around quickly.

“D-DAN. WHAT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THE DOOR O-OPEN LIKE THAT?!”

I can hear the complete and utter embarrassment in his voice.

I don’t really know what to say, so I tell him the truth.

“I’m about to take a shower?”

“W-WHY IS, JUST, I-I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, I- I’LL LEAVE.”

I hear his footsteps race down the hall.

I finally notice that I am just as red as he is.

I shrug the whole thing off and take my shower.

 

I finish cleaning up and getting dressed. I head down into the main room, glancing at the clock.

2:20

The landlord would be over in about 15 minutes. Phil is nowhere to be seen. I had already pretty much forgotten what had happened earlier, my mind too foggy to remember much. Everything still looks 3 shades grayer than I remember and I still feel sluggish and dead. My reflection had looked a little cleaner, my hair looked better, my clothes much better, and I definitely smell better, but I still look like a sickly vampire. My grey skin rivaling Phil’s paper white skin tone. The bags under my eyes aren’t going anywhere and my brown eyes look duller, almost grey as well. All of these thoughts disappear quickly and are forgotten when Phil walks into the room, turning red upon seeing me. He can't seem to look me in the eye, not that I currently have the brain space to notice or care.

“G-good, you look m-much better, D-Dan.”

I mumble a noise of agreement

He looks away shakily.

“ The landlord will be here in about…”

“Fifteen minutes, I can count.”

He sucks in a breath

“R-right. Yes, of course you can. I’ll-I’ll just go.. Over… there.”

He walks somewhere else while I sit on the couch. I turn on the TV and receive…. Static. Again. In a sudden burst of anger and frustration that came from who knows where, I throw the remote at a wall, missing and hitting the other end of the couch and yelling in irritation. The static continued to grow stronger and louder making me angrier and angrier until I needed it hit something.

Or someone.

*

*

*

*

*

*

I can't see anything but red, I can’t feel anything but anger, everything is numb, all I can hear is static ringing in my ears. My body moves itself in the direction Phil had gone.

Everything is slow motion.

He’s in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his back turned towards me.

In my head, I don’t know who he is, I don’t remember where I am, I don’t know what is happening. All I know is that I am walking forward.

Phil turns around, he appears to be asking a question but I can’t hear him.

He’s backing up slowly, asking another question.

I continue to walk forward.

His questions are single words. Is he saying my name?

I can feel his fear, but it only makes me angrier.

I see my hand on his shirt collar. I can feel him shaking, begging.

Then something makes contact with my fist.

no

My fist makes contact with something.

Something yells in pain and fear.

The trembling of whatever is in my right hand gets worse.

I feel my hand draw back again.

 

 

 

And then the doorbell rings.


	7. Chapter 7

I don’t know what it is, but something about the ring of the doorbell makes me stop. I suddenly realize what I've done, but i’m not sure why I did it or what to do now. I let go of my shaking friend and step back, not sure how to react. He falls back and catches himself on the floor, he looks at me in such a way that something inside me feels like it wants to break out. Something wants me to do something about this.

I can’t though.

I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I just stand there totally still.

Phil slowly drags himself off the ground, holding his hand to his eye. I stare at him cautiously.

He’s going to hit you back, he’s going to get revenge. He’s going to hurt you. Don’t trust anyone.

He takes a step towards me and I fearfully take a step back.

Get out of here, he’s gonna hit you, he's going to hurt you.

And then the doorbell rings again. Phil glances it that direction before turning back to me. I prepare myself to bolt, but Phil stops me.

“Wait, Dan, it’s okay.”

I freeze. Whatever my mixed up mind had thought was going to happen, this wasn't it. Little flashes of… memories? I’m not sure, flash though my mind. The first two aren’t very clear, but the third one couldn’t be clearer.

Two brothers, twins, fighting. One of them gets too violent, the other perishes.

Two best friends, girls? Wrestling over something, playfully. But one of them gets too violent. The other perishes.

*

*

*

*

*

*

I hit her, again, and again, and again. Her pastel sweater splattered with the red of her own blood. Her screams echo in the hall. Cries and pleads for me to stop but I can’t. I won’t. Something has taken control. Something feral that doesn’t listen to begging. In the back of my mind, I hear a voice screaming. “STOP. This is your girlfriend! You love her! What are you doing.” But I can’t hear that voice behind the strange snarling voice telling me to continue. To kill. Before I strike the killing blow, I hear her plead my name one last time.

“Sunny, please…”

I pause. Something within me is begging me to stop. All my favorite memories with Jade spin through my mind,when we met, coming out at the same time as her, our first kiss, when we moved into this apartment to escape our parents, and so many more.

And then it comes back.

KILL HER.

I’m not strong enough.

So I do.

*

*

*

*

*

*

 

A voice brings me back.

“Dan?”

I snap out of my mini trance and blink.

“Dan, we need to get the door. I’ll just tell him that I fell and hit my face on a table. It’s believable.”

I nod, not knowing what else to do.

Phil nods back and goes to get the door. I stay in the hallway.

“Hello! Sorry about the wait, I just had a little accident! That’s all! Lesson learned, watch where you’re going or you’ll trip, fall and face plant a table.”

I take a breath and walk out to meet the landlord. His name is Mr. Evans.

He looks like your generic landlord. Round belly, tanner skin than both Phil and I, thinning dark grey hair, small, but kind blue eyes. He is currently wearing a blue top and black dress pants. He sees me enter the room.

“Ah! Hello Daniel!”

I nod a hello that Phil quickly follows up with,

“Dan’s kind of tired right now, just recovering from an illness.”

Had I been in the right mind, I would have commended Phil for his quick thinking.

“Ah, I see, I was just going to mention that you look a little pale, Dan.”

I nod and yawn for emphasis on Phil’s little white lie.

“Anyway Mr. Evans, you were going to tell us some history about the place.”

‘Ah, yes, you’re right. Let's do that then.”

He goes on for a while, talking about when the place was made, how long it’s been around, nothing I really bothered to listen to.

“Welp! If that’s all you boys wanted to hear, i’ll be on my way.” he begins to make haste towards the door.

I find my voice at this time.

“Wait.”

He freezes.

“You forgot to mention something”

I can tell he is nervous now. He turns around wearing a fake mask of innocence.

“What do you mean? I covered the history which is what you wanted.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“What about the death count? How many people have died here?”

He can’t look me in the eyes.

“It’s London. London is old. People die. I have no idea.”

“I think you do.”

“I really don’t.”

I take a threatening step forward

“What are you not telling us?”

Phil takes this moment to jump in and puts his hands on my shoulders.

“Whoa, take it easy Dan.”

He turns to Mr. Evans.

“Dan’s right though, we live here and have a right to know.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“This isn’t America.” I respond.

Phil suddenly has an idea.

“If you don’t, then we might feel so compelled to call up someone and tell them that you are withholding information about our home that we are paying you for.”

I’m not really sure where Phil got this sudden ability to talk like that, or even what he means by “Someone”, but Mr. Evans seems to get the message.  
“Alright, you play a hard bargain Lester, but they are just legends. Stupid stories made up by kids. Nothing important at all!”

Phil pulls out his phone and wiggles it in his hand.

Mr. Evan sighs.

He leads us into the kitchen and hesitates.

“Are you really sure you want to hear about this? Typically people avoid this kind of knowledge, you know? Nobody really wants to know about the deaths, much less murders that happened where they live.”

Phil nods enthusiastically that I follow up with an underwhelming one.

“I’ve been really curious about that sort of thing recently and it doesn’t bother us at all. Right Dan?”

I nod again.

“Boy, you must still be sick, Dan, you’re usually the one talking. And Phil, you look a little ill yourself. Both of you should get some rest when we’re done here.”

I have a sudden mini realization that Phil can’t lie to save his life. I almost become present enough to notice his tense stature and other various “Phil is lying” red flags. If it weren’t for the sickness lie, the landlord may have not believed Phil. I quickly remember to commend Phil for his quick thinking sometime. 

“Well, if you’re sure…”

Phil nodded for him to continue.

“Well, I’m not sure exactly how many people have died in this building, but legend has it that every time two people move in unaccompanied by another party, one of them is murdered and the other disappears.”

He looks at us, clearly trying to emphasise the point. I feel Phil go stiff besides me, I don’t flinch. He has the dumb ‘I’m trying to scare you’ face on.

My thoughts are confirmed the second he starts laughing, content with Phil’s reaction.

“I’m just kidding boys, it’s just an old ghost story probably dreamed up by a clever kid. The story was probably made up based on the fact that several people have indeed died here, but like I said, it’s London. It’s old, people die. It’s not important.”

“We are still curious, legends or not”

“Alright then I’ll just go off of what I’ve heard and know.”

He leads us into the kitchen.

*

*

*

*

*

*

“So the stories go, 60 years ago, a drunken man did kill his wife here and proceeded to then shoot himself out of guilt after. That’s a part of the story I do know. Then I believe two siblings, a brother and a sister, moved here not long after. I don’t know what went down, but it ended up with the sister and the brother dead. Actually, maybe the brother went missing. I don’t remember. Finally, about 40 years ago, I know a boyfriend snuck off with his girlfriend, runaways, and somehow managed to rent this apartment. It’s been said that the boyfriend turned psycho because of mental health problems he was keeping secret and turned his girlfriend into a punching bag. He ended up killing her, but I have no idea what happened to him.”

Something flashes in my mind.

I stumble into the kitchen, absolutely no control over my actions. Jade is standing by the sink. washing dishes. I want to hug her. So I do. I drag my body over to her and grab her suddenly from behind, she flinches in surprise, dropping a glass. Then something clicks in my mind. It feels like my body has been engulfed in water as I squeezed jade harder. And harder. And harder.

“S-s-sunny…. T-t-tight….. S-s-stop.”

So I do.

I shove her towards the counter. She gasps for air and falls on the ground upon impact. I want something. I’m not sure what it is. But I don’t ever find out because suddenly Jade is up and has tackled me to the ground. Holding me down with her body, she is smaller than me, but in my confused state, I can hardly fight back.

‘This is different’

‘This is wrong’

‘What am I looking for.’

A burst of energy flows through me, but not the kind that craves to fight back. Jade’s lips are on mine and everything begins to feel right again. There is an angry monster in my head and Jade is the only one crazy enough to try and fight it.

*

*

*

*

*

*

“...n? Dan? Hello? Anyone home?”

I blink a few times to see Phil looking at me, trying to hide his worry and fear with amusement. Mr. Evans doesn’t look to bothered so I cover up my little trance with.

“Sorry, still kind of sick.”

“Not to worry lads, i’ll just show you two more areas and i’ll leave”

He leads us to the area right outside Phil’s door.

*

*

*

*

*

*

“Here is where 50 years ago, the story goes that another boyfriend and girlfriend came here to live, but the girlfriend was very jealous and thought that her boyfriend was cheating on her. One night, she went up to his room, knocked on the door, and killed him by closing his neck in the door. It’s said that she closed it so hard on him, the door frame splintered.”

Another image flashed in my brain.

I’m holding her bridal style, the way I would have if I had gotten the chance to ask. I carry her toward her room. The one we had planned to sleep in that night.

Her necklace, previously a silver heart with a little peridot and a zircon jem, is now red. Everything is red. Her face, her back, her chest. The floor, the hallway, and now the bed. My hands, my body.

My eyes.

*

*

*

*

*

*

I snap out of it before Phil has to do it for me again.

I follow them into the hallway.

THE hallway.

I could see Phil visibly tense up.

“Hey, before I start this last one, you both realize this all b.s that most likely isn’t even real right? We wouldn’t legally be able to sell these apartments if they were.”

We both nod, to tense to respond.

“So there were three murders in this hallway, but I will say, I think one of them actually did happen.”

Phil looks at him, surprised. He continues.

“The first two also happened about 30 year ago Two female best friends wrestling or something and then it got real and then twin males fighting over something and ended up killing each other. The last one, I legally have to say really did happen. 15 years ago. These two girls, possibly in a relationship, I don’t know. This was when I had bought the building. It was one of my first weeks on the job. These girls had been living there awhile. I never really spoke to them, when I did, they seemed like nice girls. One day I get a call, it’s one of the girls. I don’t remember her name. Sarah, Sammy, Savannah, something like that. She was crying and stuttering and panicking. I didn’t really know what to do. So…”

 

I looked at him closely. He seemed to be having trouble with the story.

 

“So I panicked too. She said something about needing help, either she said don’t call the police or call them. To this day i’m not sure, but I was new to this so I called the police. I didn’t really know what was going on so I just told them there was trouble in this apartment, and that was the end of that. It wasn’t till later that I found out that the other girl was dead and the one who called me was missing. The police questioned me, but obviously didn’t know anything. I did not go in this apartment, I was told there was blood so once everything was dying down, I hired some people to clean it, and that was it. 15 years later, you two come strolling in asking for an apartment. I had only one left and well, the rest is history.”

I have no warning this time, the memory that isn’t mine hits me like a brick.

*

*

*

*

*

*

I shakely leave Jade on the bed. I find a phone. I can’t think straight. I’m crying. The monster is gone. Leaving me with no one but myself to blame.

‘She’s dead’

‘I killed her’

I call up the first number I remember, the landlord’s.

‘She’s dead’

‘I killed her’

I don’t even give Mr. Evans a chance to say hello.

“She’sgone!it’smyfault!Ihurther!pleaseHELPI’msorryI’msorry!Ididn’tknowwhat happened!Pleasecome!Pleasecome!Pleasedon’tcallthePOLICE!!I’msorry!I’msorry!”

‘She’s dead’

‘I killed her’

I scream and sob into the phone. I don’t know how much of it was audible, but I don’t care. I sink into a pile on the floor. My bloodstained body can’t hold its own weight anymore.

‘She’s dead’

‘I killed her’

The last thing is smell is my soulmates blood.

The last thing I taste are salty tears.

The last thing I hear are my own screams of anguish.

The last thing I feel is a blinding pain, emotionally and physically.

The last thing I see is a pair of red eyes.

*

*

*

*

*

*


	8. Chapter 8

I blink a few times. I can see and hear Phil worriedly shaking me and calling my name in a terrified voice. Both his voice and upside down face getting clearer by the second. Mr. Evans is lurking in front of me, clearly unsure of what to do in this situation.

Phil looks up at Mr. Evans angrily,

“Don’t just stand there, do something! Make an ice pack, grabs some advil, bring a damn pillow! I don’t care! Just do something!”

Mr. Evans stumbles off at a slow pace.

I try and sit up when I notice that Phil is basically holding me on his lap. He must have caught me as I….. what even happened? My mind is no clearer than before, probably worse at this point. I try again to sit up, but everything spins and I fall back into Phil.

He wraps his arms around me in a strangely comforting way.

“Do you want me to call 999? How are you feeling? Where is that damn man?”

I can barely speak, but I mumble out a.

“Don’t call them.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t seem okay. Maybe I sho-”

“I said DON’T. CALL. THEM.”

He tenses up a little.

“Okay, okay. I won’t call them.”

Mr. Evans brings back an ice pack and a pillow.

“I don’t know where the medicine is…” he says sheepishly.

Phil growls a thanks, his attention on me.

“Okay, well, um… it seems you’ve got this covered and I have a really um.. busy schedule to get back to! Yes, i’m, uh, so sorry boys. Uh, get better Daniel! Bye!”

He quickly leaves. This infuriates Phil.

“Did he just leave!? You just passed out and he did a half assed job at helping and then he just left?!”

Phil hands me the ice pack to adjust as I please. The pillow lays abandoned a few feet away.

“How are you feeling Dan?”

“What happened?”

“You tell me! You were standing there, then your eyes went glassy and… um.. Anyway, you just collapsed! I had to catch you before you hit your head!

I have no patience for bushes. Much less beating around them.

“Glassy and um what?”

He can’t look me in the eyes.

“It’s really not important Dan, not right now. Just focus on… I don’t know. Anything else.”

“And um what, Phil” I demand, my voice a little louder.

“Well, okay, but I was probably just seeing things but…”

Feeling a little control to my body return, I sit up and catch Phil’s avoiding eyes.

“But what Phil.” I persist.

“Red! Your eyes turned red! Again! Just like every time we've gone through this! The kitchen, they were red, by the bedroom, they were red, in the hallway! Guess what? Crimson! Everything Mr. Evans said, despite him being so unhelpful, was proof! If that wasn’t enough for you, I don’t know what is! There are spirits in this house Dan, and they’re not only targeting you. You think I could ever pull off all of that interaction? I don’t care that it’s ‘just Mr. Evans’ because I couldn’t have pulled of those lies EVER. I’m next Dan! We need to do something.”

He’s pleading with me at this point, the tears in his big, blue eyes spilling over like a waterfall. His voice is shaking and he can't seem to stop himself. He leans forward into me, crying into my shoulder.

“I just miss you Dan, I don’t want them to win. I don’t want them to take us. But we have to try Dan, you have to believe me. We can fix this. All of it.”

This is to much. All of it is to much. Emotions, or lack of, everywhere, drowning me. Voices screaming, pain. Loss. Heartbreak. Uncertainty. Trying to get me to fix what I have done, maybe. I don't know. Nothing is comprehensible. They’ve done something bad. All the voices. I think I can hear Phil… is it Phil? I don’t know?

“Dan?”

“Dan are you ok?”

“Dan?!”

Then one voice makes itself very clear. Screaming above all of them.

It’s not a voice really, it's more of an emotion.

Anger.

*

*

*

*

*

*

“No Phil i’m not okay! I haven’t been okay for a long time! And guess what ‘Mr. Best Friend of the Year?’ You’ve been hiding from me?! You’re scared of me. You’re scared of me and we both know it. The flinching, avoiding me, hiding what I did?! You’re afraid, Lester, and you know it. What kind of ‘best friend’ is afraid of their best friend? Why don't you tell me because I have no fucking idea! You’re such a terrible person! All you think about are ghosts and crap when really, you should have thought, ‘Shit, Dan is clearly in some kind of mental distress! Maybe I should try and help him!’ You couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel! All that crap about ghosts? It’s not real! You’re delusional! Insane! Maybe i’m not the unstable one! Maybe it’s you! I may be a little off right now, but you’re the one jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Stating that my problems are because of something supernatural. Because guess what! It’s not real! None of it is! Get that out of your fucking head because you sound like a 4 year old boy crying about the monsters under his bed. But you want to know what is real, Phil? This is real. I’m insane, you’re a delusional lunatic, end of story! You do realize people just tolerate you, right? Because you’re honestly so selfish. What kind of 30 year old are you?”

 

Phil is once again in tears, still on the floor and staring at my legs.

I notice that I have stood up, looming over Phil like the monster he claims is possessing me.

I hear him whisper something.

 

“I’m sorry, what was that? Try again, but this time use your big boy words.”

 

“I said I’m 31.”

 

“And?”

 

“You said I was 30. Don’t you remember? My birthday wasn’t even that long ago. You bought the cake and everything.”

 

“Wow, I didn’t think you could possibly sound more childish. Congratulations. I wonder who ties your shoes for you in the morning. You just keep making this about yourself, don’t you? You’re not pretty enough to be this stupid, honestly. Let’s make a list about some of your flaws that are making this worse! You’re selfish, You’re dense, You’re absolutely useless, you’re clumsy, hell, you can’t even see without glasses! And then you’re so insecure about that you wear contacts! And what’s up with the dyed black emo hair. STILL. Get over it! It’s not 2007, start acting like it!”

Phil stands up shakily, unable to make eye contact. His blue eyes swimming with anguish and unstoppable tears. His face red and splotchy. If I wasn’t shaking with anger, I would see him shaking with distress.

“You should leave Dan. Go away and come back when you have something better to do than insult me.”

I growl, I can feel the rage pumping through my veins, replacing the blood. I turn to leave, on my way out, I throw one last thing into the air.

“Everyone who ever loved you was wrong. Including me.” Before slamming the door, not quick enough to miss his sobs.

*

*

*

*

*

*

 

(P.O.V Change. Phil’s P.O.V)

P.s, suicide is touched on here, and lots of self destructive thoughts too. Read at your own risk. Otherwise, skip to Dan’s P.O.V

 

I feel upset.

I feel betrayed.

I feel broken.

As Dan slams the door, his words cut through me like a knife.

“Everyone who ever loved you was wrong. Including me.” 

Including me.

I don’t know what’s been wrong with me, normal Phil wouldn’t be letting all this happen, normal Phil would have fixed something faster, normal Phil wouldn’t have abandoned his friend. Normal Phil’s heart would have been in his throat and stomach at the same time at the idea that Dan loved him.

But normal Phil isn’t home either.

Normal Phil left the day he was threatened with a knife.

Normal Phil was taken by something else. Or someone else. Someone who was betrayed as well. Someone who was killed.

I know I am right about the ghosts. Because I’ve seen them. It’s not like the movie “Sixth Sense” or anything, they are just pale white figures the blink in and out of existence. They scream at me, telling me i’m next. Telling me to run. To get out before ‘he’ gets me. I’m assuming they mean Dan.

I haven't been myself. I feel on edge, scared, alone. I always feel like somebody's watching me. Throw in my wariness of Dan and you have a full bucket of anxiety.

Everything Dan said pushes down on my shoulders, along with the weeks of torture I’ve been through and that Dan has been through.

His final words sounded like a closing door to me.

‘Everyone who ever loved you was wrong. Including me.’ 

The implication is very real. Dan loved me at one point. If I was feeling normal, this would have been the best news ever. Had it been said in a different way at a different time that is. But he no longer does. He hates me. It’s all my fault too. That he made very clear.

No! It’s not Dan, he would never talk to you like that! It’s whatever is possessing his body! You saw his eyes yourself. RED. They aren’t his.”

I try and convince myself that it wasn’t Dan. But what if it was? What if he’s right? What if I really am crazy? I can hear the voices of a thousand whispering around me.

He hates you.

He told you that he hates you.

He was all you had.

And now you have nobody!

You can’t tell anyone about this.

Dan was the closest person to you.

And look how he reacted.

How would your other friends react?

How would your family react?

How would you explain all of this?

How would you explain what Dan did to you?

He would get locked up in jail

You would get locked up in an asylum.

What are you going to do now?

You have nowhere to go

Nowhere to turn

Nowhere to run.

Except….

My head turns towards my window. My body picks itself up and looks out.

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

I want to.

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

I so badly want to.

Do it

Do it

Do it

Do it

I open my window.

Do it

Do it

And for some reason

Do it

I don’t.

I leap back into my bedroom breathing heavily.

I fall into a pile on the floor and cry.

What did I almost do?!

Weak

Pathetic

You should have done it.

Done everyone a favor.

I can’t stand my own thoughts. I climb into my bed and try to sleep them away.

It’s hours before I finally fall into a nightmare filled sleep of Dan screaming, red eyes, and falling out of windows.

 

(P.O.V Change. Dan’s P.O.V)

I had walked around aimlessly for several hours. I think, all I know is that the sun had been down for some time now. On my walk, I decided that everything was meaningless. Nothing I did anymore mattered so fuck it all. Who cares? Now that Phil hates me, there is no one to impress, no one to worry about. I could yell and scream and kick all I wanted and nobody would care. Life sucks, so I can suck too.

I figured it was time to head back, I had forgotten everything that I had done. Part of my new resolve was to forget, to not care. I open the front door. The weight of the home feels heavier. Everything feels darker, more intense. I shake it off, and don’t close the door behind me because, who cares? I head towards my room, only to find myself in front of Phil’s room. I consider walking inside. But I don’t. I head back to my room and land on my bed. I check the time. 2:54.

I lay back down to go to sleep, not bothering to change.

2:55

2:56

2:57

2:58

2:59

3:00

“Hello, Daniel”


	9. Chapter 9

(WARNING: LOADS OF TRIGGERS. IF YOU’VE BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE THE STORY SO FAR, YOU’LL PROBABLY BE FINE, BUT IF ANYTHING REMOTELY RELATED TO DISORDERS, HARM, ETC, AFFECTS YOU, JUST STOP NOW AND ASK ONE OF US IF YOU’RE REALLY CURIOUS)

 

“Hello, Daniel”

I sit up so fast, the room goes spinning. My eyes focus on…

No way.

I must be dreaming.

“I guess you are dreaming tall boy, but not quite. I am actually real. This is really happening.”

My eyes bug and I go to jump back and scream, but I can’t move from my frozen state, I barely whisper out a:

“Who- What are you?”

Because in front of me is a girl about 23 years old, seemingly small for her age, but her features show that she has seen more than any 23 year old has. She wears a sonic tee-shirt and black, ripped jeans, Her black combat boots visible with stains that I could not explain with any logic. Her short blonde looking hair is covered in blue highlights and her blue-green eyes seem to glow in my dark room.

Actually, her whole body seems to be glowing.

Not to mention that she is fucking FLOATING.

The grey tint to her body seems to be surrounded by smoke as she floats with her legs crossed a foot over my bed.

“My name is Sunny Wilson and I lived here a while ago.”

My voice cracked.

“Oh? Is that so? Great great, I don’t know how you know my name, or how you even exist but now I live here, so It was nice meeting you, um, Sunny, but you don’t exist. You are just a dream. So leave.” I can’t stop the waiver of fear in my voice, the terrified shake of my body, or the cold chill that goes through my body.

“Daniel, you have to listen to me. You and your friend are in grave danger.”

I don’t listen. I jump out of my bed and rush out the door, headed to the living room. I run through something that freezes me inside and out. It is so cold I drop to the floor.

“Dammit tall boy, i’m trying to help you. Sit your ass down and LISTEN!”

I find myself tossed through the air, landing in a pile on the couch.

She clears her throat.

“Sorry about that, that stupid animal leaves a lasting effect on all of us.”

“Stop calling me that! Wh-what are you talking about?!”

“Noodle man, listen. There is an evil spirit in the apartment called a Lemur. Not the animal, the spirit type. It’s a vengeful spirit that takes over the victim and makes them think and do… horrible things… to the people they love most.”

She looks away, her left hand closed around something hanging from her neck.

I pause.

“Are… are you the girl that beat that other girl to death in the hallway?”

Tears appear in the girl’s eyes, but she continues.

“The Lemur takes hold of one of the souls of a pair, they control that chosen person for the rest of their life, which is never long. They use the soul’s body to… get rid of the other person and then having the chosen person kill themselves. They collect the souls of the two dead people and trap them in this house. Doomed to wander this apartment until Lemur gets hungry. Once you’ve been here a long time, your soul either corrupted if you’re the chosen one or gets lost if you aren’t. Once you’ve reached this stage, you are “Ripe enough to eat”. Nobody knows what happens after that.”

I shake my head in bewilderment.

“Okay I am definitely dreaming because this is a load of bs. Stupid Phil getting to my head. I need to stop listening to him.”

Sunny’s face glitches with frustration. 

“You wanna learn a different way? FINE.”

An invisible force yanks me up.

“While the victims are still alive, the Lemur likes to torture the one that will be murdered and I can prove it.”

I blink in confusion.

Suddenly i’m being dragged through the hall, and into Phil’s room.

“Hey what is this!” I yell, but it seems nobody can hear me. Including Phil who lies on his bed in front of me.

I spin around, looking for Sunny.

She appears in front of my face, causing me to yelp. I turn to Phil. He is lying on his back, not even under the covers, but obviously sleeping deeply.

“I don’t get it, Phil is clearly fine.”

“I beg to differ tall boy.” She says, putting her hand to my forehead.

Everything spins and goes dark.

 

I wake up back on the couch, Phil sitting next to me. I blink a few times before sitting up. The T.V static rings in my ears.

“Oh, Phil.”

He doesn’t respond. Showing no signs that he heard me at all.

“Phil?” I lean closer to him.

His head snaps to where the hallway is, shadows dance like monsters along the wall.

Phil finally speaks, fear lacing each word.

“No… Please.. Stop.”

The shadows get bigger, moving along the wall. The room gets dimmer and I begin to realize it isn’t static ringing in my ears.

It’s screams.

The sound is like nails on a chalkboard at different velocities. Agony and pain are in them. Some begging, some crying, all in pain, all utterly terrified.  
And then I see something that will haunt me forever.

Myself.

I round the corner where the shadows that do not belong to me dance. My skin is deadly pale, my eyes sunken and dark, my hair stringy and greasy. I’m slouching, eyes downcast and staring at my feet with a facial expression of defeat. I am bone thin. Ribs protruding, joints at odd angles, and cheeks sunken in. Self consciously, I run my hand over my own ribs and face. They don’t feel quite like what i’m seeing, but definitely on that road as I try and remember the last time I ate.

Phil is crying now trying to come towards the not me, but the couch is morphing in front of him, holding him down. The real me tries to move to help him, but I find that I can’t. I can’t speak either. I can only watch. The not me’s head jerks up and I gasp. The not me’s eyes are red and glowing, looking more angry than I could ever imagine possible on my face. The copy cat speaks, showing fangs instead of teeth.

“You did this to me! You didn’t help me and you turned me into this! If you had just TRIED, or even CARED enough, I wouldn’t be suffering right now! I wouldn’t be in so much pain! I’m dying Phil! I thought you loved me! But you just watched. I hate you Phil Lester! I HATE YOU.”

The eyes and teeth fade to normal, and a terrified expression appears on the doppelganger. The shadows grow larger.

“Phil? Wh-what’s going on?” the shadows began to suffocate at consume the not me. I wish I could turn away as I hear my own muffled scream, begging Phil for help until my screams join the others. The last audible thing it says is:

“How could you, Phil?”

Phil is still struggling, tears that must be blinding stream down his face as he attempts, with no avail, to save the fake me. Then the shadows disappear and the couch lets Phil go. He rushes towards where I see once again, a scarring sight.

A pile of skin and bones lies on the floor, thin blood pouring out of the eyes, nose and mouth into a pool of blood growing quickly by the second. The bones are mostly mangled and a few portude out of the skin.

It’s not pleasant to see yourself dead.

Phil holds the broken body and sobs, his own body getting soaked in my blood.

I feel like something is breaking within me, like those broken bones are real. I want nothing more to go over to him. Hold him and tell him that it’s just a dream. That i’m okay, that he is okay, that none of this is real.

Then we both get quite the surprise.

The supposedly dead me wakes up, eyes glowing red.

“You deserve this Phil Lester.”

The body pulls out a knife, the same knife I had tried to use weeks ago, and plunges it into Phil’s back.

Both of us scream at the same time. I still can’t move, but I try to as I watch Phil writhe around in agony. Blood spilling from his back, his mouth and even his arms, despite there being no damage to them before. As Phil drowns in blood, the copy cat’s bones snap back into place making for a dreadful sight. Shadows surround the fake me as he maniacally laughs in a voice that is not mine. He disappears. But the dream isn’t over yet. Phil lays there, choking on blood. Dying. It lasts for what seems like years. Moaning and gagging, making horrific noises as he slowly and painfully dies. The worst part? He keeps saying.

“Dan, got to save…. Dan… help… Dan.” The last words I hear are.

“I still love you.”

 

And then I wake up, Sunny infront of me, taking her hand off of my head.

I notice myself shaking and gasping, tears streaming down my face like twin waterfalls.

I see Phil gasp and wake up, he looks at the time.

3:30

He is in the same state I am in. I turn to Sunny.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

“That, Lanky, was one of the most frequent nightmares Phil has been having since your mind went AWOL. It is also your future if you keep this up. You will grow so skinny, it will be no surprise to your friend here when you pretend to faint. In his attempts to save you, you wake up and stab him with a hidden knife. Then going to your own room and hanging yourself.

“Since what?! I’m gonna what?! Keep WHAT up?!”

“Oh my spirits are you kidding me tall boy?! Ever since the day you moved into this house, you have been acting like you were on a different planet!”

“Stop calling me that, you clearly know my name. But how exactly?! I still don’t understand.”

She slaps her forehead.

“Why me?! Okay Paul Bunyan, here, this ought to help.”

She places her cold fingers on my head again.

Suddenly, I’m back in the hallway in front of Phil’s door. Except i’m not controlling myself. It’s as if i’ looking through another person’s eyes.

Phil’s eyes.

(A/N: This is about to get confusing. It’s all from Phil’s point of view, but Dan is looking through Phil’s eyes. He can feel what Phil felt and hear some of his thoughts too. Sorry if it’s a little confusing)

I then see Dan/myself coming down the hallway towards me/Phil.

Ok i’ve had just about enough of looking at myself.

My mouth begins to move, but I am not moving it.

“Dan? What’s the matter? Why did you slam your door?”

 

I suddenly remember this event.

 

“I was just about to ask you the same thing!”

“Dan, I didn’t slam my door.”

 

I feel ashamed of myself. I remember how this conversation went.

 

“Who else could it have been?”

“I was thinking it was you!”

“Why would I slam my door?!”

“Why would I slam MY door?”

We both fell silent.

 

I want to cover my ears, but I can’t.

 

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

 

Here it comes.

 

“What if it really was a-”

“Phil. There is no way in hell our flat is haunted. Now that i’m thinking about it, it was probably that noisey couple across the hall. They probably had a fight or something.”

“But Dan-”

“Oh come on Phil! I really didn’t think you were dumb enough to believe that man! He was rude and was making fun of us and it’s stupid to even consider it! Just forget anything he said and go back to sleep!!”

 

I want to take a heavy breath, Phil’s body is not complying. I can feel all of his emotions. Confusion, sadness, and even some anger. I can’t blame him. 

 

“Alright goodnight.”

 

The image changes again.

 

I’m cleaning the kitchen, I am still a little miffed from the night before, but not all that mad. I had already forgiven Dan, but was putting on a show to prove a point.

He had already forgiven me. Oh god what did I do?

“Ph-Phil?”

Here we go.

“Phil?”

“Yes?”

“Um… can I talk to you?”

“Not right now, I need to clean the kitchen”

 

I am not mad, just need some time to think.

I had no idea.

“Phil, you don’t even like to clean. Please let me talk to you?’

“Just leave me alone for now.”

“But Phil.”

“Dan, i’m busy, not right now”

‘“Phil, please-”

“Dan.”

 

Now I feel confused. This wasn’t like me. It was like I was going through pre-recorded movements. We have usually made up and had pizza by now. Even my voice sounds different.

He was being controlled too.

My arm is suddenly yanked from me and i’m being pressed against the counter, my other arm pinned against my back and the counter. The movement required was more advanced than any either one of us should know.

A glass drops to the floor. But the glass could not have been affected by either one of us. Not that mattered. I’m staring into what should be familiar, happy brown eyes, but instead are glowing red irises. I have never felt fear like this before.

 

“Dammit Phil, just listen! I just wanted to apologize! I was just acting so stupid last night and I felt terrible! I couldn’t sleep! I hate what I did! Just forgive me!!”

 

My past self Dan is leaning in really close to my/phil’s face. I am terrified and confused. My past self Dang grabs a knife and is holding it really close. It’s a true threat and I am scared beyond words. I’m about to be stabbed by my best friend.

So that is what I did. I never remembered any of that….

 

(Dan’s official P.O.V again)

Memory after memory fly past. I can slowly feel Phil shutting down on himself. His mind clouded with self doubt, paranoia and fear. I feel the weight of his dreams, the pain I cause him, everything. And yet through all of it, he still cares about me.

No, it’s deeper than that.

He still loves me.

Guilt overcomes me as I see myself and Phil giving up to different powers. Both of us getting thin and pale, avoiding each other, everything.

 

When Sunny removes her hands, i’m ready to give in.

 

It’s 3:35.

When I see, once again, something that shakes me to the core.

I swear, this whole night is just one scare after another.

I see Phil better than I have in weeks now. Bags under his eyes, ratty hair, puffy eyes from tons of crying, thinner, but not as thin as I. His once bright and laughing eyes are dull and colorless.

It gets worse. His arm, the one I hurt what seems like so long ago, has not healed. I recall the memories of me throwing things at him, hits and jabs whenever he was in my way. I really did break it.

With strength that is not mine.

He is covered in little marks here and there. The worse ones on his arms.

But then I see why when droplets of red fall to the floor.

As Phil, who’s sobs make his whole body shake, drags lines of red across his pale skin.

“PHIL NO!” I rush over to him and kneel in front of him.

“Please stop! Don’t do this to yourself!”

He can’t see or hear me as I sob my pleas.

Sunny floats over to me. She puts her cold hand on my shoulder, making me lift my head. Pausing the image in front of me, she hold a metal heart shaped necklace with two small stones of peridot and sapphire in the center in her hand. 

“Jade bought one for both of us, she thought it would be cute with our birthstones and all.” Sunny smirks

“I thought it was a dumb idea, but I loved it anyway. Just like I loved everything she did.” Sunny sits down beside me.

“She was my pastel princess. Full of life and energy. Of course, with one heck of a smart mouth on her. We met when we were both just finishing junior year of high school. Of course, we didn’t even go to the same high school. One day I was taking a stroll, listening to my ipod without a care in the world. I started to cross the street when I saw headlights coming my way. I was sure that I was dead until this blur of pastel pink and purple flew at me and pulled us both out of the way.

Her name was Jade Callavero. Her parent had moved here from Mexico, a long ways away from here, before she was born. She had the prettiest, long, black hair, with the clearest brown eyes. True to her name, she had the ends of her hair colored jade. Her pastel getup made her look like an angel. We continued to talk after she actually saved my life. We became best friends and later came out to each other. Next thing I know, I have a life time partner by my side. Ready to go through thick and thin with me. As long as she was allowed to express herself, she was happy.”

Sunny’s smile fades

“Until we moved here. The Lemur took over me. Just like you and Phil, we had some close calls. Until one day… it wasn’t a close call anymore.” Sunny’s eyes filled with tears when she looked back up at me.

“I can’t sit here and watch that happen again. This is how i’m going to fix my actions. I’ll never see Jade again, I’ll never be able to make up for what I’ve done. But I can do this.”

She points at the frozen image of Phil.

“You can still save him. When you wake up, you will remember all of this. You have the power to stop this. You just have to do it.”

I nod my head.

“Sunny?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you so much, i’m so sorry about Jade. She sounds like a nice girl.”

“She was… See ya tall boy.”

 

And then I wake up.

I look at the time,

3:37.

I jump out of bed, feeling more alert than I had in weeks, and sprint my way over to Phil’s room. I don’t knock, I bust open the door to find Phil still tracing his arm. On the sight of me looking disheveled in the doorway sends Phil into a panic, dropping the blade, and pushing himself to the corner of his room, shielding himself from me and shaking. My heart crumbles, he thinks i’m going to hurt him.

I walk towards him slowly.

“Dan, please no, I know it’s not you I’m sorry I couldn’t help it’s my fault…”

His words stream together, getting more and more panicked as I stand in front of him he flinches back and closes his eyes, bracing himself.

When I crouch down in front of him.

I put my hand on his shoulder, he violently flinches away.

I sit down next to him and put my arm around his shoulders, still shaking he glances at me, confused.

“D-dan?”

“It’s me, the real me.”

He looks at me for a second, as if not sure.

So I change his mind.

I close the gap between us, doing what I had always secretly wished I could do but never believed I would. I press my lips to his, and suddenly, all the pain, all the fogginess clouding my mind, all the terror and uncertainty temporarily fade away. And the fireworks that are always promised in stories? Well, they are real because that’s what it feels like. At first, Phil doesn’t seem to know what to do, but then he kisses back. It feels like magic.

And then it’s over and we break apart, needing air.

I carefully wrap my arms around him, mindful of all of the injuries that I caused.

He buries his face into my chest and starts sobbing again. I let him, my own tears taking over. Hugging and crying, I almost smirk, half expecting Phil to ask what kind of pizza I want, despite him already knowing. When we are done, we sit on the floor, holding onto each other like life supports. Everything I had wanted to say stays put in my mouth. It can wait till tomorrow. We fall asleep like that. On the floor, in each other’s arms.


End file.
